A Second Chance
by Amanda N. Lupin
Summary: All Hermione wanted to do was use the time-turner one last time to see Professor Lupin before he left... But an accident may find her with more than she imagined, and in danger of breaking the rules of time-travel.
1. Confessions and Goodbyes

Harry nearly ran straight into Hermione, as he left the classroom. He could only assume that she too had come to say goodbye, though she looked a sight worse than he did, and so he decided the headmaster could tell her she had already missed him. "I'll see you at the leaving feast," he said finally. She merely nodded, pausing before entering.

"Ah, Miss Granger, I wondered when you might be stopping by,"

"Professor Dumbledore? I..." but the old wizard waved a hand and she instantly fell silent.

"You needn't explain yourself my dear, as we are standing in Professor Lupin's old classroom I don't flatter myself to think you've come to see me."

"Uh, no sir," Hermione confessed awkwardly. The old wizard smiled softly. "So the rumors are true, then?"

"Yes, I'm afraid they are; all of them. Though Remus tells me you suspected his condition from the beginning." Hermione nodded, blushing slightly. "I'm afraid it has been left to me to inform you that he has already taken his leave. You were hoping to say goodbye, I imagine?"

"Well, I was rather hoping not to," she confessed quietly staring absently at her shoes, knowing the headmaster would know the truth anyway.

"He seemed very sure of seeing you all again, and I must say that I'm inclined to agree with him," the headmaster replied, smiling down on the disappointed young witch. "But if you had your heart set on seeing him before he left, I daresay you have the means of providing such closure. It will be of no consequence to Professor McGonagall if you should return her time-turner to her now or later," he said with a wink. Hermione's jaw dropped then gathered up into a radiant smile. "Two and a half turns should be enough for a second opportunity."

"Thank you Professor," she replied breathless.

"For what Miss Granger?" he asked. Then with a smile and another wink he had gone.

Hiding in the nearest broom-cupboard, Hermione pulled the small glass hourglass from beneath her robes. Thank Merlin, she had come straight to his classroom and office rather than stop by McGonagall's as she had intended. Kissing the glass, she turned it twice, and then a half, and shut her eyes tight. The swirling and dizziness in the pit of her stomach stopped and she listened carefully for footsteps or voices in the hall before leaving her hiding place.

The door was partially open and she smiled slightly as strains of swing music poured out of it. Pushing back her tears, she took a deep breath and entered.

"Harry?" the wizened wizard guessed chuckling, not looking up to face the creaking door as he packed his things.

"It's Hermione, professor," a timid voice replied. He snapped to attention turning to face the young witch, and in the process dropped the several pairs of socks he had been packing. Hermione stooped to help gather them and gently deposited them in his arms once more, her fingertips momentarily brushing his hands. "I came to apologize. " She added, taking a slight step backward to grant him some space, and nervously biting her lip. She had tried many times to drop this tick, but without an inch of success.

"Apologize?" Lupin asked confused.

"About last night," she continued. "I kept your condition confidential when I discovered it because I trusted you. I never should have doubted your judgement, you're a good man. Do you really have to leave?" There was a hint of desperation in her last question, but Hermione couldn't find it in herself to care.

"I'm afraid so, Dumbledore will no doubt have an office full of howlers by now. Besides it's best if I leave before the mob forms," he replied with a sad half smile.

"That's not funny professor."

"Let's just say that I'm used to it by now."

"That doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed. "Hermione, you weren't wrong to be suspicious of me, you've done nothing you need be sorry for." She looked as if she wished to reply, perhaps even argue this, but seemed unable to find suitable words. Taking advantage of her speechlessness, he continued. "I know you weren't the one who leaked my illness. I've no doubt Severus told that Malfoy twit to overcome his injured pride," he smiled warmly at her, but somehow this seemed only to upset her more. Hot and furious tears poured down her cheeks. She smiled only slightly at his private pronouncement of Draco, while her fists curled in fury.

"I hate them," she spat fiercely, her brown-amber eyes burning bright through her salty tears.

"No. No, don't do that, Hermione. You are too good for that, don't waste your energy on them," he encouraged softly. "Chocolate?" he offered profiting some from the pocket of his rather shabby robes. The young witch smiled, wiping her tears on her sleeve as she accepted a piece.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Defense-Against-the-Dark-Arts won't be the same without you."

"Hermione, you are without question, the brightest witch of your age, you will prosper with or without my instruction," he replied gently, but the look he bestowed on her was a sympathetic one. He too, was sore to part from Hogwarts, it was just beginning to feel like home once more, and he would miss the trio. She frowned and shook her head, another solitary tear slid down her cheek. "Why so sad Miss Granger?" She attempted to speak again, but once more found herself incapable. Would she ever see him again? Before he could so much as blink, her lips were on his. Too stunned to respond, he numbly noted that he could taste the sweet chocolate fresh on her breath.

He couldn't be sure what possessed him, but a moment later he wrapped his arms around the young witch pulling her into his arms; kissing her in return. He felt her smaller hands traveling up his chest and failed to suppress a soft throaty growl; his exhaustion from last night's painful transformation was all but forgotten as her fingers buried themselves in his tawny hair.

"Remus," she whispered breathlessly. He awoke with a start to her gasping his first name, and backed away from her, hands raised in disbelief of himself. Moony growled within him, raising his objection to the loss of contact.

"My God what have I done?"

"Nothing I didn't want you to do," she replied fearfully, waiting for the moment he would cut out and run.

"Hermione,...I...I.." he sputtered, heavens he was beginning to sound like Peter now, he thought fighting to control his voice. "Hermione, I shouldn't have done that, I don't know what came over me. I took advantage, I'm sorry."

"No, please, don't be sorry." She was almost begging now, but far past caring. "I'm not sorry. I love you Remus." Hermione felt her eyes becoming moist once more.

"Hermione, you are fourteen," he pleaded desperately.

"So what, I can't know what love is? A moment ago you said I was the brightest witch of my age. Or do you tell that hogwash to all the girls?"

"No Hermione." His tone was serious, heated but not angry, she was immediately silenced. "I meant what I told you. I believe you are wise enough to know what love is..."

"Just that I am a fool to love you specifically," she finished. He opened his mouth to argue but seemed unable to find something to say to this. "Why?" she asked, her voice breaking as more tears spilled over. She had a most sorrowful expression, he prayed he would never have to see again in his life. "Because of your condition, your age, the fact you are dirt poor? You see, I already know all those things; I don't care, I love you anyway."

"Stop it." He didn't know where the strength in his voice was coming from, he didn't feel certain of anything anymore, and Moony certainly had no reservations or sense of morality, he knew only what he wanted. He always got what he wanted, but not this time. She was too young, too innocent, she couldn't possibly love him, and if she did, it was better to break her heart now than to ruin the rest of her life. "Besides being completely out of the question, a personal relationship other than friendship between us would be wholly in appropriate. You need a boy who's your own age, someone whole that has something to offer you... a little money wouldn't hurt you either."

"You don't have to 'offer' me anything. I don't want anything. I don't want anyone but you," she whispered. Gently cupped his face in her hands and a warm tingling strange sensation came over him before he gently pulled away from her grasp.

"I won't be your charity case." He felt as though he'd taken a knife and stabbed his own heart, twisting it, but he can see no alternative to push her away.

"You know very well you wouldn't be just a charity case to me." With that she turned and slowly left the room in sad retreat. "You won't be needing those bandages anymore," she whispered softly as she left. Gingerly he unwrapped the bandages that covered the deep gashes he had received from Buckbeak. They had healed into raised white scar I'll be damned, he thought stunned.

The aging wizard collapsed into the seat at his desk one last time, exhausted once more, and buried his face in his hands. He could still smell her trailing scent with his heightened senses. Passionfruit, and her mouth had tasted of his favorite chocolate. This was all wrong.

It had begun innocently enough. They were merely two intellectuals sharing philosophical discussions, between classes, that had somehow become late night conversations between them over books in the library until Madame Pince kicked them both out. Then last Christmas she had given him enchanted parchment so they could write each other messages from their respective quarters.

Perhaps that had been where the trouble had started; without fear of owls being intercepted, or others reading the charmed parchment they had been completely honest, naked in a manner of sorts with each other as neither had been with anyone else before. She talked about her fears, her hopes, her dreams...and he surprised even himself confiding in her about the history of his 'furry-little problem', and his childhood, sharing the better tales of the marauders when they had been in school...

They were friends, that was all, Then somewhere along the way it had become something more extraordinary than friendship. He became increasingly aware she held his gaze a little longer than she normally did, caught her staring up at him in class, then blushing a furious Weasley-worthy shade of maroon on seeing he had noticed her attempted subtle stares.

Who could say when it had started. No, he thought We haven't 'started' anything, it was a crush, a passing fancy, she will get over it and we can go back to friends like it was before. But even his thoughts didn't sound very certain of that. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. True he didn't want to take advantage of her, she was young, but despite her brilliance she could easily change her mind about being with him, she didn't understand, being with a werewolf was not so simple as dating any other man. Maybe they could go back to being close friends for a few more years, until she was older; he could wait for her... Finally reality hit home, hard. In a few more years they would both be older, their age gap would be no less significant, no more accepted, he would still be a werewolf, would still be condemning her to a life of stigma and holding her back, and by then she would have moved on to someone else.

He stood up restlessly and turned to the window. She was sitting in the courtyard several stories below him, knees pulled up to her chest, looking somber beneath a beautifully flowering tree. He turned away, unable to bear looking at the hurt he had inflicted any longer. The wolf within him howled bitterly.

"You would do well to forget a witch's soft touch, particularly one so young as Granger's. She'll soon find another toy to amuse herself, there's always Potter or Weasley." The cruel voice of Severus Snape cut into his thoughts. He turned to face him with a scowl that could have set off a thousand killing curses.

"It would seem I would be well off to learn occlumency while I'm at it," he managed to reply, an uncharacteristic malice in his voice. The wolf inside him was growling, hackles raised, furious. "What do you want Severus?"

"I've brought more Wolfsbane potion for your journey, wherever it is you are going. Dumbledore's request," he added as though fearful of damaging his snarky reputation. Remus didn't give a damn about his reputation, unlike Dumbledore he had never entirely trusted Snape, he could go to hell. If Wolfsbane potion wasn't so expensive to produce, he might even have rejected the small box of vials Snape had brought.

"You can leave it on the desk," he snapped. Severus nodded, a cruel smile twisting over his thin pale lips.

..............................


	2. Bugger

Hermione sat beneath the cherry tree in the courtyard for some time. With everyone else was down by the lake and it provided a quiet place to think, and wait for her double to go back for a futile visit with Professor Lupin.

She should have felt bad, guilty even, surely Dumbledore had not expected her to attack the resigning Defense-Against-the-Dark-Arts teacher with kisses and declarations of undying love, but it wasn't as if she had planned to. Truth be told she was rather shocked by her own behavior. Certainly she had imagined such things. In wild and passing fancy over the past year. But such things were dreams, silly hopes. And always he was there from her third year 'til her graduation day, waiting to reciprocate the inevitable.

She mindlessly fingered the chain around her neck, before realising she should probably now return it to Professor McGonagall.

Her mind still free-floating, she had hardly noticed the platinum-blonde haired boy who stood waiting at the top of the steps for her.

"Alright there Granger? Where's Potter and Weasel-king, they must be missing their pet mudblood." Hermione ignored him, no doubt Draco was still sore about her punching him yesterday. "No one humiliates me," he whispered scathingly, and before she could react, Draco had given her a hard shove backwards catching her off balance and she tumbled back down the stone steps.

Malfoy watched her fall with a smug grin of satisfaction, as she thudded down the many steps. Then suddenly her figure began to flicker as it hurtled against the steps, then in a flash she had disappeared, her bookbag falling to the ground, the only evidence she had ever been there. What the...?

"Bloody hell," Malfoy whispered stunned, racing down the steps to her bag. Granger would never willingly part from her beloved tomes. A puzzling fine gold dust littered the steps where he had last seen her. "Bugger."

"Indeed Draco," The cool voice of the head of Slytherin house whispered softly behind him, causing the boy to jump slightly. "Come with me. Oh, and grab Miss Granger's bag."


	3. Dizzy & Confused

Hermione could do nothing as she felt stone step, after stone step assailing her body, stealing the breath from her lungs, screams and yells before she could make them. Why hadn't she seen that coming, been somehow more prepared for that? She groaned in pain and relief as her body fell still on the landing, not daring to attempt to move for a moment, the cold stone feeling blessedly soothing on her now screaming bruises, gashes and aches.

Intense pain shot up through her as she attempted to pull herself from the floor. She managed instead to pull herself into an exhausted slump against the wall, her vision a blur of pain and suppressed tears.

"Lily?" A blur of sandy hair, and figure of a tall, rather thin boy had appeared in the corner of her vision before suddenly spotting the young witch, prone against the wall. "Bloody hell! Are you alright?" the voice asked nervously. Dimly Hermione thought that she knew this voice, but the strain of trying to place it amongst the now almost deafening ringing in her ears was proving too great an effort. "Merlin, what happened to you?" he asked, moving about nervously to look over her torn robes and bruised body.

"Stop moving," Hermione instructed, voice raspy. "Dizzy," she mumbled, clutching her head in her hands.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital wing," he told her, speaking gently. "Madame Pomfrey will sort you out." Hermione managed a slight groan of acknowledgement. The young witch winced as the boy hoisted her arm over his shoulder and helped her to stand, taking on most of her weight, before admitting defeat to the pain and blacking out, remembering no more.

Hermione woke squinting against the bright sunlight streaming in through her closed eyes, before recognizing the safe and familiar walls of the hospital wing, and the headmaster who sat watching her on the edge of her bed. Something about the headmaster seemed different. His nose seemed somehow less broken, his face perhaps less wrinkled, and she was sure his beard was shorter than she had last seen it. He smiled gently down at her.

"Welcome back. I must say Mister Lupin will be pleased you are awake and well, he has been most concerned since he found you." Mister Lupin? Hermione slightly baffled.

"How long have I been unconscious?" she asked nervously.

"You took quite a fall. It's been about two days."

"Two days," she repeated stunned. "Oh no, did I miss the Hogwarts Express?" Dumbledore met her with a confused expression. Her gaze flew around the room, searching for clues, before finally falling upon a wall calendar which though it was too far away to read properly seemed to indicate the full moon was in six days. But that couldn't possibly be right. She had seen Professor Lupin transform, Pettigrew had escaped only three days ago. "Professor, what is the date?"

"September 1st," Dumbledore supplied curiously.

Hermione groaned. No, it wasn't possible. Would she really have to relive her entire third year again? I'm going to kill Draco, she determined frustratedly. Looking down, she suddenly became aware of the time-turner around her neck. It was completely smashed. The little metal which held the precious hourglass contorted and disfigured, and the glass smashed. Most of the grains of sand had been lost. Oh no, Professor McGonagall is going to kill me, the young witch thought panicked.

"Yes, I was curious about that," Dumbledore said softly. " It was my understanding they were under strict registry and still very experimental. How is it you came by a time-turner?" Strict registration was right, but experimental? That didn't sound right. Certainly they weren't given out to everyone, but Professor McGonagall had said they were used by the ministry to observe and record events in trials.

"Professor, you were the one who suggested I might use one," Hermione replied slowly.

"I'm sorry, my dear girl, but I do not know how I possibly have done so. I'm afraid I do not know who you are."

"What?" Hermione squeaked terrified. What? How... How could professor Dumbledore not know who she was? Just how far had she gone back? "What year is it?" the young witch probed worriedly.

"1975." Hermione felt her world spinning as his reply sunk in, and fainted.


	4. Arrangements

"Oh Albus, You didn't."

"I don't understand, I was only relating to her the date, and she fainted."

"But Albus, look at her time-turner it's positively smashed. Remus said he found her in a heap at the bottom of the stairs during his patrol. You didn't think she meant to come here. She could have come from any time. You might have checked what the last date she remembered was before you scared the living daylights out of her."

"It was never my intention to scare her Minerva. How was I supposed to know? You are the one studying experimental short-distance time-travel. " Hermione was stirring again, and the pair of them fell silent.

"Hello dear, I'm afraid the headmaster neglected to give me your name." McGonagall whispered softly as Hermione blinked and slowly sat up once more. Wow, McGonagall looked almost young, suddenly the young witch remembered the gravity of her situation.

"Hermione Granger," she replied nervously. Immediately she slapped her hand over her mouth. "I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"Why not Miss Granger?"

"Anything I say or do--it could change the future," she whispered fearfully. My future, she thought worried.

"And what future was that, Miss Granger?" Hermione let out a soft squeal of terror, shaking her head, bush brown curls tossing violently. "I meant the date, dear."

"Oh." Well, she supposed it could not hurt to tell them the time she had come from. "1994," she replied finally, slightly reluctant. "June 10th," she added unnecessarily. The headmaster managed to tame his shock to raised eyebrows, but Professor McGonagall simply stared, slightly slack-jawed.

"Nearly twenty years," she whispered astonished. Hermione barely managed a nod. Dumbledore seemed to be deep in thought.

"You were a Hogwarts student?" he asked curiously. Hermione nodded. "What year were you in?"

"I just finished my third." Dumbledore fiddled with the sleeve of his lavender robes thoughtfully, before glancing over to Minerva, who had at least managed to pick her jaw up from the floor.

"Well, then it would seem the first order of business would be to determine where you will stay while you are here," Dumbledore said finally. "You are of course welcome to stay here at Hogwarts until such time as we can determine a way to send you back, but you are quite right of course, we should find an alternate name for your use. Do you perhaps have a middle name?" Hermione nodded.

"Jean."

"I am receiving the distinct impression, you do not have much affection for it," Dumbledore chuckled. "Any others?" The young witch shook her head. "Hmm... Perhaps you could keep the first name, less confusion for you, but you would require a different last name, perhaps a death in a your wizarding family to explain your sudden appearance here mid-schooling..." he mused thoughtfully.

"My brother," McGonagall whispered softly. Dumbledore beamed.

"Hermione McGonagall, yes that would do nicely," Dumbledore nodded, turning to the young witch. "Though hopefully, it is a lie we will not have to maintain long." At this Hermione smiled. Yes of course, Dumbledore was brilliant, and McGonagall was no squib either, of course they would help her to find a way back, and soon.

"Thank you professors."

"Of course, Miss-Hermione," McGonagall corrected, smiling. I have a niece, she thought uncharacteristically excited, and she is so much like him.


	5. Introductions

"Ah, Mr. Lupin, I hoped you might be returning. Allow me to introduce you," Dumbledore smiled between the pair of them. "Remus Lupin, Hermione McGonagall. Mister Lupin was the one who rescued you." Hermione forced herself to smile in spite of her shock. 1975, Merlin, he was her age. Or rather, she was his. It had not yet occurred to her that she might know others from this time besides professor Dumbledore and McGonagall, but of course it made sense. Remus was blushing rather embarrassed.

"I can assure you, sir, it wasn't quite that dramatic."

"Nonesense," Dumbledore replied happily. "Poppy tells me you carried from the grand staircase." The young wizard shrugged, avoiding his or Hermione's gaze.

"I'm sorry," Hermione replied immediately worried. Wow, had he really carried her four flights of stairs? "I'm not ordinarily such a klutz, I must have tripped on the steps while I was looking for my aunt's office." Remus nodded still drinking in the young witch. Without the stress and panic of their first meeting he had more time to notice she was in fact quite pretty. The headmaster seemed to have caught his gaze because he smiled, eyes twinkling in a way that seemed to suggest recognition and felt himself blushing once more, and seemed to busy himself with looking out the window.

"Miss McGonagall," Dumbledore interjected into the silence. Hermione almost forgot he was speaking about her. Damn, she needed to work on that. "has recently lost her father, who was responsible for her homeschooling education, but her aunt and I have assured her she will be most welcome here," Dumbledore continued, pointedly addressing Remus, who nodded.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Hermione." Remus replied sympathetically.

"Thank you," Hermione replied softly, putting on what she hoped was a good act of mournfulness. Remus wondered fleetingly what had happened to her mother, or how her father had died, but now was hardly the time to ask. The revelation that Minerva McGonagall had any siblings was surprising enough, for he could not remember her ever having mentioned any.

Hermione managed somehow to calm and regulate her breathing. The lie had worked, now hopefully she could avoid contact with anyone she knew that might alter the future. As soon as she thought it, however, doubts began to surface. She couldn't pull her gaze away from the younger version of the man she had come to love. As much as she wanted to get back, what if she were here for some time? Could she really stay away from him, then?


	6. A Second Sorting

"Thank you, and now if you will permit me, a special announcement and introduction are in order before we all tuck in. It is my pleasure to introduce you to Miss Hermione McGonagall. She will be starting her fourth year with us, I expect you will all help to make her feel welcome." Dumbledore gently led the young witch down from the head table where she had been waiting to the now empty stool where the sorting hat sat.

_Ah now this is something new,_ the hat said interestedly. _Hmm... Plenty of brains, and there's courage too, but so many secrets, and ambition-a thirst to prove and distinguish yourself. _Gryffindor, Hermione thought a little less confidently. It had to be Gryffindor, surely the hat was not considering her for Slytherin. I belong in Gryffindor, she thought frantically, I want to be a Gryffindor. _You really think you can change anything? _the hat spoke softly in a voice that sounded almost amused. I have to try, she thought in reply. _Admirable, _the hat acknowledged, _a bit foolish, but admirable._

Remus watched nervously from his seat. Not that he would have cared if they put her in another house, even Slytherin, though he couldn't imagine what little he knew of her that she could belong or fit in there. He hoped they might be housemates, though. It would certainly make it that much easier to see her, and get to know her better. Talking in the hospital wing and before the feast they had seemed to have much in common with one another.

Sirius finally managed to pull his hungry, mournful gaze from his plate to study his friend across the table.

"So that's the bird you rescued, 'eh Moony? She's not half-bad looking," he said off-handedly, turning to James who half shrugged. remus felt a slight, and quite inexplicable twinge of jealousy course through him. What was that? He hardly knew her, how could he already be jealous? Because, petty as he knew the excuse was, he'd seen her first, and Sirius could have any girl he wanted, he thought a little disappointedly. Prongs leaned across the empty table and interrupting his inner dialogue.

"Did Dumbledore say her name was McGonagall? Does that mean she's related to Professor McGonagall?" Remus sighed, was he the only one who actually listened to the announcements and speeches?

"Yeah, she's her niece. She was home-schooled, but her dad died this past summer." The marauders at least managed to muster a serious moment of sympathy for her.

"So, you've talked to her Moony, what's she like?" Sirius asked interestedly.

"Yeah, what's she like?" Peter chorused.

"I don't know," Remus blanched. The sweetest, most beautiful creature I've ever seen, he thought, barely managing to stifle this thought from spilling over his lips. "She seemed nice, smart..."

"So is she a stickler for the rules then? Probably a Ravenclaw," Sirius mused thoughtfully.

"Yeah, maybe," Remus replied reflexively. Though he had begun privately chanting Gryffindor some minutes ago, and now had his fingers crossed under the table, watching the young witch intently.

Gryffindor, Hermione thought, nearly a prayer now. What was taking the hat so long? There were only four houses. And only one for me, she thought seeking out the table beneath the red and gold banners. Her eyes met those of her blue-eyed, sandy-haired rescuer, who smiled softly up at her. _Gryffindor, _the hat shouted finally. Polite clapping rang throughout the hall as she stepped off the stool, returning the hat before walking down to her new fellows.

Remus hadn't realized he had stood up to clap for her, until he heard the amused snorts of his fellow marauders, but he was committed now. He blushed, but decided to remain standing, however stupid he may have looked, and pretend to have gotten up to make a seat for her.

"Oye Peter," Sirius said, catching on and thumping the boy's shoulder, "budge over, lover-boy here needs the space to put on his moves," he chuckled, joining James in cheering and whistling obnoxiously for their newest member. Remus shot him a death glare before turning back to smile at the approaching young witch.

A young redheaded girl, who'd been seated further down the table, and looked somehow familiar to her had leapt up to meet her. "Welcome to Gryffindor," she greeted happily. "My name is Lily. I see you've already met Remus. He's great, it's the other three attached to his hip you want to watch out for," she whispered conspiratorially grinning. Hermione nodded, smiling.

"Evans, if you were jealous, all you had to do was say so. I'd gladly be attached to your hip," James jeered. Lily sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Really Potter? It's not even the first day of term and you're going to start harassing me again?"

"You can make it stop anytime, Evans, just say you'll go out with me." Suddenly it clicked for the young witch who watched the scene unfold, taking a seat beside Remus, Lily. This had to be Harry's mother.

"Hey, chat later. Food's here," Sirius managed between large forkfuls of pasta. Lily sighed, before retuning to her seat, a slightly dejected, but determined James watching her go.


	7. The Flap of a Butterfly's Wings

A special thanks to all of my readers who have subscribed, favorited, but especially to those who have left me such wonderful reviews. Your thoughts and comments brighten my day, and also help me to improve as a writer to provide you with even better chapters for your reading pleasure, so please keep them coming. Hopefully there's no confusion with this chapter, this flashes forward to the present day in which Hermione has disappeared from and the people who miss her trying to cope. Thank you all, and I hope you will continue to read and enjoy "A Second Chance."

Yours Sincerely,

Amanda N. Lupin

* * *

June 10th, Present Day:

"I don't understand Albus," Remus spluttered, pacing back and forth nervously. "One moment, I was talking to her, then she started to leave and she just vanished! No pop, she just flickered and then she was gone. She can't have apparated! And now I'm having these flashes, these memories that can't possibly…"

"Be yours?" the headmaster interjected. "But of course they are, my boy. They were always yours; you simply did not remember them. Now, we know where she is, the question is how she arrived there. I remember her showing Minerva and I a smashed time-turner when she woke up in the hospital wing," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Did she seem upset-when she was leaving? Perhaps it was an accident or bit of accidental magic…" Remus cringed. Of course she had been upset, he'd rejected her, but she had seemed heartbroken, not angry or frightened. One expected snowfall or rain to follow the witch or wizard experiencing such an emotion, not inadvertent time-travel. It was no good, Dumbledore would know the truth of it one way or another eventually, if he did not know what had happened already.

"She came to say goodbye," he whispered softly. He couldn't meet the eyes of the headmaster anymore. "She kissed me, and Merlin help me I didn't… I don't know what came over me, once I realized what I was doing I told her, we… I couldn't. That she needed someone younger, safer, more stable to provide for her," Remus continued still pacing nervously. Dumbledore shook his head. He had long suspected when Hermione was a bit older that the pair of them would make an excellent couple. And wizards and witches living so long as they did now, twenty years was not so great a gap, but the werewolf had always had trouble distinguishing the man from the beast. Convinced he was every bit the monster that had bitten and infected him. "So she started to leave and then she just…"

"Disappeared," Dumbledore finished nodding. Remus continued to study the floor waiting for the retribution that was to come. A sudden raised incredulous voice ripped into the silence.

"How long will she… How will she get back?" Remus asked terrified. Dumbledore shook his head.

"You kissed her?" Draco blurted out, a deviant smirk on his face. Snape smacked the back of his head sharply, and Malfoy stifled his snickers, but continued to grin malevolently at his former professor. The pair it seemed had slipped into the room noiselessly sometime during their discussion and now watched the pair interestedly. If Snape was at all surprised by this new information on one of his students, he managed to conceal it well, with a singular raised eyebrow, and a curious glance in the direction of the headmaster. Surely, there would be repercussions for this.

"What about everything else I've forgotten? What have I done that I don't remember? What if…" But whatever Remus was hypothesizing, it seemed too great a thought to be finished, instead he simply trailed off, resuming a more rigorous trek back and forth across the Dumbledore's office floor.

"Whatever you've done has already happened Lupin, whether you remember it or not," Severus replied finally in an icy cool tone, deciding the headmaster was once again going to play favorites with his Gryffindors.

"But I…" Remus protested desperately, turning to Dumbledore.

"Remus, you carry enough unnecessary guilt, you're absolved. " Absolved, Snape thought bitterly, just like that? Did he not just confess to inappropriate contact with one of his students?

"But Hermione…"

"Was no longer your student as of breakfast this morning when you tendered your resignation," the headmaster concluded succinctly. Snape's mouth drew into an even thinner line than usual. Count on Dumbledore to find a loophole to use to his advantage. "I have made as many excuses and exceptions for you, Severus," Dumbledore replied through legillimens. Snape unprepared for the invasion of his mind, scarcely managed to stop himself from reacting with a startled and most undignified jump, before regaining his neutral mask of composure. Alright, so maybe he had.

"Headmaster, I believe I might have an explanation for Miss Granger's rather abrupt departure," Severus finally in his customary soft and icy tone, indicating Draco where he stood now somewhat nervously beside him. Remus felt an inexplicable surge of anger rush through him. What had he done? Remus shivered as another memory, and the emotions that had accompanied it suddenly assaulted him. Confusion and disappointment, though the memory itself was still fuzzy, coming into focus slowly, as it must have been happening for Hermione.

"I remember her too, Albus," Severus whispered softly. Remus' gaze shot up to the potions master, as Draco snorted derisively.

"Don't tell me, she attacked you and snogged you too," the young platinum blonde wizard chuckled. Snape lowered a glare that might have set off a thousand Avada-Kedavara's.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape purred softly, the smoothness of his voice not meeting the unbridled fury of his onyx eyes, "merely meeting Miss Granger out of her normal time sequence has changed her future, our future," he gestured reluctantly to the werewolf who had stopped his pacing to watch. "She holds your very existence in the palm of her hands. If, Merlin forbid, she attempts to fulfill the qualities of her house with a no doubt brave, but foolish act," Snape paused dramatically. "Pushing her down those steps may well be the first and last thing you ever do." Draco gulped and immediately fell silent, his smug smile wiped instantly from his face, his panicked gaze searching desperately for the headmaster's, but Dumbledore's attention seemed otherwise quite entertained in watching a small blue butterfly which was dancing just beyond the tower's window.


	8. I Can Change It

A special thanks to all of my readers who have subscribed, favorited, but especially to those who have left me such wonderful reviews. Your thoughts and comments brighten my day, and also help me to improve as a writer to provide you with even better chapters for your reading pleasure, so please keep them coming. Thank you all, and I hope you will continue to read and enjoy "A Second Chance."

Yours Sincerely,

Amanda N. Lupin

And now without further ado... Back to our young displaced heroine! ^_^

* * *

"Lumos."

Hermione lay awake some hours after the welcoming feast, behind the drawn curtains of her new four-poster home. Professor Dumbledore and professor McGonagall had managed to buy her books and some school supplies, as well as a decent pair of robes and clothes to tide her over until she could go to Madme Malkins for measurements, ignoring her fervent protests. So she found herself biting her bottom lip and focusing hard on the parchment balanced on her knees.

This was wrong. She shouldn't be doing this, not after everything McGonagall and Dumbledore were doing for her. Time was not to be meddled with. Watched, observed, but not changed. So why was she composing a list?

"I can change it," she whispered tearfully. Whether or not this was actually true, or merely a chant to comfort herself, Hermione couldn't really say, there was so much. The young witch knew only that she could never forgive herself if she didn't at least try. "I can change it. Everything." Their faces, so young, so innocent-alright, perhaps not, but at least not scarred by betrayal, loss, death… Peter's unmarred left arm, Sirius' young, full face-untouched by prison rations and dementors, James-Harry's dad and spitting image, so alive, Lily's smiling face-asleep in her own bed mere feet from her, they haunted her. How could she see them, know them like this, and just watch, observe, not touch, just let them go back to the broken and non-existent shells of her future?

Had anyone ever gone back this far before? Or had the power to change something, something big, beyond their own miserable existence? Hermione reviewed the list once more. I can change it, she thought happily.

"I'm going to change it," she whispered determined, folding the parchment before slidding it into "Practical Defense Spells for Fourth Years" and committing herself to get at least some sleep before her first classes tomorrow.

……………………………………

"Oh Hermione," Lily called happily as the young witch made her way carefully down the grand staircase that morning for breakfast. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to deliver this to you. I think it's your schedule," she beamed from where she stood talking with a young, skinny, raven-haired Slytherin. "Oh, no stay Sev," the redhead encouraged softly. "Hermione McGonagall," Lily introduced smiling.

"Severus Snape," the small boy replied softly, awkwardly offering a hand for her to shake.

Knowing that openly gaping at him would not be the proper response to yet another shockingly young face of her future, the young witch managed to tamper her surprise to reply. "It is a pleasure to meet you Severus," she replied happily as she could and resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to address him as 'sir.' Severus managed a soft smile.

"Likewise Miss McGonagall," he replied politely.

"Aren't you going to look, then?" Lily asked rather eagerly. "You know the boys won't let up until they've seen it." Hermione noticed Snape's face sour slightly at the mention of the marauders, but Lily seemed not to have noticed, watching eagerly as Hermione unrolled the parchment and read aloud.

"Oh you'll have potions with Severus and I, then," she observed cheerfully. Hermione got the distinct impression that Snape was not so thrilled as the young redhead was at this prospect, though she could not imagine what she might have done already to give a bad impression. "Professor Slughorn is great." Again, if Snape's expression were any indication, he did not indorse this sentiment either, but he said nothing, and his counterpart was far to busy listing off the pros and cons of each of Hermione's new professors to notice. "I'm afraid we don't share many of our electives though. You're taking Arithmancy? That's supposed to be quite difficult," she noted impressed, and on this note, even Snape seemed to agree nodding with an upturned eyebrow of interest. "I'm in divination and Muggle Studies."

"I still don't understand why you would take a class you could teach," Severus sighed softly, speaking up at last. Lily looked a bit baffled.

"Which one?"

"Well either if you want to be technical about it. We all know Divination to be a load of waffle," Snape muttered softly. Hermione couldn't help but snort in amusement, which Snape seemed to quite enjoy. Lily looked a bit dejected. "But I was more pointedly referring to your Muggle Studies. You are a muggle," the raven-haired boy pointed out needlessly.

"Yes, well, it's rather fascinating to study it from the wizarding perspective," Lily replied defensively, flushing slightly.

"If you say so, Lily."

"What about you?" she asked, turning the focus around.

"What about me?" Snape replied a bit nervously.

"You could easily teach our potions class," she shrugged softly. Now it was Snape's turn to blush, as an ever so faint pink tinge crept up into his usually pale cheeks. Hermione couldn't help feeling she no longer belonged in this conversation, and was gracefully looking for an exit when she spoke up once more, this time addressing her. "I think Remus is taking Arithmancy too," Lily added to get Snape off the spot. "I know he and Peter are in Care of Magical Creatures with you, with Grublyplank. So at least you'll have one familiar face in each of your classes," she summarized happily. Hermione nodded, her stomach suddenly deciding to growl loudly and betray her.

"Oh I'm sorry; I'd forgotten you hadn't eaten yet. Don't let us keep you," Lily smiled, gently shooing her off. "We'll see you in potions," she called cheerfully, waving as Hermione entered the great hall for some long-overdue breakfast.

Pushing down all the 'should nots' of time-travel so long and obediently programmed into her head, she dropped into the seat across from Remus, and began loading up her plate.

"Good morning Remus. Peter, James, Sirius," she smiled brightly. Remus smiled, doing his utmost to conceal his disappointment that their new arrival had not selected the seat he'd saved beside him. Peter's fork clattered on his plate, mouth slightly agape, clearly stunned to be identified, and singled out for attention, not as an afterthought to the other marauders. Hermione smiled satisfactorily at this. Good, he was a marauder too, he should be made to feel included. She should have been repulsed by the very sight of him, but the young witch couldn't find it in herself to be. He wasn't the coward who turned on his friends, who had run away and left Sirius to rot in Azkaban for thirteen-years. Not yet, and with any luck, he would never have to be.

James merely nodded his reply, watching just beyond the doors where Lily stood still visiting with Severus. Sirius' expression was torn between the previous smugness that had graced it on having her take the seat beside him, and confusion of being mentioned last in the list.

"Lily thought you might be in Arithmancy with me," Hermione probed pointedly to Remus, inexplicably slightly nervous, but Remus merely offered a weak nod, sulking over his plate of eggs. Sirius made as face as though to gag, while James no doubt sensing perhaps another way of becoming closer to Lily suddenly took great interest in the newcomer. Deciding she would determine what was bothering Remus later, she continued.

"And I think we're in Herbology together Peter," she added happily.

"You say that as if it's a good thing," Sirius chuckled softly with James.

"Why shouldn't it be?" Hermione asked before Peter's head could drop from their teasing. "Herbology is one of my weaker subjects," she lied flawlessly. "But my aunt tells me he's the top of the fourth year class, maybe even the upper levels." Though they were quick to conceal it, all three marauders were stunned. Peter blushed furiously, avoiding their gaze. Remus was rather embarrassed by his own in-attentiveness; Peter was always the odd man out in the group. Tagging along, but always seeming to be left behind in the dust of their wake.

"I didn't realize you had such an interest in plants Peter," Remus managed softly. The young boy nodded, wordlessly. "You should tell Professor Slughorn, maybe he would let you collect ingredients he needs for some extra credit."

"Oh, maybe I could help you in potions!" Hermione exclaimed brightly, every bit as though the thought had just come to.

"Sure," Peter blushed. "That'd be great."A rare, proud smile at the prospect of being useful, graced the young boy's features as he drowned his pancakes with syrup. I can change it, might even be already, the young witch thought, it doesn't have to end the way I've always known it. And with that happy thought, Hermione dug in to the best breakfast she could ever remember having. Everything was going to be alright now.


	9. Good Intentions

"Alright Moony, care to explain to me what exactly crawled up your arse this morning?"

"What are you talking about," Remus replied distractedly as they made their way down the lawns to Care of Magical Creatures later that afternoon.

"You hardly said two words to anyone lately. I know you're the quiet one, but it was more than that. What's up mate," James asked perceptively.

"Ah c'mon prongs, it's obvious isn't it? it's gotta be the new bird he rescued the other day," Sirius teased.

Hearing Sirius tease him about it Remus felt almost stupid. She hadn't sat next to him at breakfast in the spot he'd pointedly saved for her each morning, and now suddenly she was spending all of her free time with Peter? Not that Peter was necessarily a bad guy, but Remus couldn't help feeling jealous. The idea was absolutely ridiculous, he had known Hermione McGonagall all of a week, and what did he know about her really? She was clumsy, or else easily distracted-or had been when she had crashed down the steps to the landing where he had found her. She seemed kind, polite, intelligent. Remus was sure he'd never seen a more beautiful witch. He couldn't have said what exactly, but there was something about her. Something that went beyond the initial surge to protect and take care of her that day he'd found her bruised, dizzy, and vulnerable. Something he'd never felt before, for anyone.

"McGonagall's niece," James asked interrupting his thoughts. Even more reason why the fact Hermione might be more interested in Peter shouldn't matter, Remus thought gloomily. Professor McGonagall had always been kind to him, fair, but surely she wouldn't approve of her late brother's daughter dating someone with his condition. And even in the unlikely event she did, what could he possibly offer a witch like her? She had a good name, probably a decent inheritance from her father... Who was he, a poor, penniless, nameless werewolf to tarnish that? And anyway, he thought, trying to talk himself down who's to say she would want anything to do with him when she found him out. If she fancied Peter, well all the better for him, Peter always was more or less the forgotten, lesser one of their group. But somehow Remus couldn't bring himself to feel entirely happy for him.

* * *

It was foolish to assume that she would be able to change everything. She certainly didn't believe it was going to happen overnight, nothing that made up the people and events on her list had, but one week later Hermione was feeling more than a little disheartened. Dumbledore seemed no closer to an answer for how she might get back, and for her part she felt no closer to changing anything than when she had tumbled into the past and been found and rescued by Remus.

And then there was Remus. Hermione had tried her best to avoid him. Between trying to befriend Snape, and help tutor Peter in his potions she had very little free time anyway, but both endeavors seemed more like treading water than anything. Snape seemed merely to tolerate her because Lily had taken a shine to her, and Peter continued to be dreadful at brewing anything besides disastrous explosions.

It wouldn't be fair, she told herself, it would have been selfish, manipulative to take advantage of his younger self after his future had turned her down. And what if Dumbledore and McGonagall did find someway to return her to the future? If she pursued him knowing full well that was a possibility, only to return to the present, surely he would hate her for it. No, it was better this way. And so long as she didn't have to see him too much, she could pretend the throbbing ache she felt in her heart was nothing.

* * *

Lily Evans had never been one to believe a girl was incomplete if she was without a boyfriend like some of her peers seemed to, but she couldn't help feeling even in the brief time she had known her that Hermione McGonagall and Remus might be perfect for one another. She certainly didn't want to force either's hand like so many were attempting to do for her and James, but for the life of her Lily couldn't figure out why it seemed like Hermione was avoiding her friend. It was only the first week of school, so perhaps she was simply busy, Lily reasoned, but then she had been spending an awful lot of time with Peter... Lily couldn't find a reason to dislike him, but she had never warmed up to him so much the other quiet marauder. Truth be told there was a brief time in their first year when she had thought perhaps she and Remus might... but it hadn't worked out that way, and now, though she was loathe to admit it to herself, she was falling for James in spite of herself and others efforts. Hermione was very bright, but it had only been one week, there hadn't even been a full moon yet, so surely it couldn't be that she'd already worked out Remus' condition. And even if she had, she hardly seemed like the type of girl who would care about so clearly beyond the boy's control. They were so similar in temperament and interests, Lily was sure if they just spent a little more time with one another. Perhaps if she could find a way to distract Peter, keep him busy... Not to push the two to one another, but maybe provide them with an opportunity.

"So how was your first week," she asked cheerfully taking a seat beside the young witch for lunch.

"It's been alright," Hermione replied evenly, attempting to pull herself out of her bout of self-pity, and managing a small smile for the red-headed witch. However dark her mood, Hermione couldn't help but feel comforted somehow in Lily's presence. She was not unlike Ginny, her own future female confidant, and always so kind it was difficult not to like her, in fact Hermione couldn't think how anyone could. She made a mental note to tell Harry about her when she got back, before it occurred to her this wasn't some sort of vacation, that she might never have that conversation with him, or any other. She sucked her lip under her teeth to hide their quivering, her gaze returning unenthusiastically to her still yet to be loaded plate.

"Bit of an adjustment I imagine," Lily continued, trying to comfort her, draw the young witch out. "Going from homeschooling to a boarding school like Hogwarts." Hermione nodded, biting her lip still harder. "You seem to be doing wonderful in your classes though, your father must have been a great teacher." Hermione hadn't thought about her parents. Did they know she was gone? Did anyone? She was so far in the past it was difficult to say how much time was passing in her abandoned present, though she knew from her research of time-turners it would be dramatically slower with greater lengths of time. What would happen if she never made it back? What if she changed everything and wiped out herself or someone else she cared about? "I'm sorry you must miss him terribly," Lily whispered quickly, sensing the young witch's growing distress. Tears came before she could stop them. What are you doing Hermione?

Remus was the first to notice, whether because of his heightened wolfish senses, or his keen interest in her he wasn't sure, but he'd seen it almost the moment the marauders entered the Great Hall. Her quivering bottom lip, trapped beneath her teeth, her hand which tightly gripped a nervously bouncing leg, and her eyes. Her eyes more than anything, her beautiful deep brown eyes were swimming with tears as they neared the table. Peter and James exchanged confused and nervous looks as Remus took the other seat just beside her.

"Hermione, are you alright," he asked softly.

All week she had been avoiding him, trying hard to get some distance, take the harder, higher road, and in an instant, with the whisper of her name, his hand gently placed atop her shaking one, all her restraint and good intentions came tumbling down. With a great heaving sob, Hermione all but threw herself into the young boy's lap.


End file.
